


Supply Run

by saisei



Category: Final Fantasy XV
Genre: M/M, Nonnies Made Me Do It, World of Ruin
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-08-04
Updated: 2017-08-04
Packaged: 2018-12-11 05:42:03
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 458
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/11707986
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/saisei/pseuds/saisei
Summary: For the prompt, "Prompto gets punched in the face." Ignis is the best defender.





	Supply Run

**Author's Note:**

> Originally posted here: http://fail-fandomanon.dreamwidth.org/268657.html?thread=1511277681#cmt1511

"We're not looking for trouble," Prompto says, trying to keep one eye on each of the rival looters they'd run into. It's hard; he needs more eyes, obviously, like at least two. Not that that's Ignis' fault.

Someone taps his shoulder and he jerks around, turning straight into the fist aimed at his face. He catches the blow on his cheek and stumbles backwards, pain ringing through his head. He hears laughter and feels the first drips of blood from his nose.

For a moment – just one, a short one – he's afraid. And then Ignis says _down._ Prompto gurgles a response even as he drops, and forces his watering eyes open to watch the show. He's sure the looters saw a blind dude with a stick and wrote him off as a joke. Joke's on them, though: the stick hisses through the air like a whip, striking wicked hard and forcing the looters to stumble back or – well, there's the one guy who tries to grab the stick. Probably his fingers are broken. While he's getting a feel for the fight, Ignis has been wrapping his other hand up in the handles of the bag, which is full of Ebony cans. The first swing he takes with it knocks a guy through a display case; the second flattens a man trying to sneak up on him. He's hitting so hard some of the cans bust open, coffee splattering on the floor.

Prompto's enjoying the show, but he's feeling a little _too_ rescued. He puts a bullet into the wall and the room goes quiet.

"I believe my associate wishes you to leave," Ignis says, and gives the stick a restless slash through the air.

The men scramble out to their truck and drive off, and Ignis holds out a hand to pull Prompto up. He's just a bit off with his aim, but Prompto doesn't care as he bounces up to his feet.

"Are you hurt?" Ignis asks, already pulling out a clean handkerchief and making vague face-ward motions.

"Just swooning a little after a handsome devil rescued my ass is all," he says, but still takes the handkerchief and bleeds all over it. "You sacrificed your coffee for me, that's _so romantic_."

"Concussion," Ignis diagnoses with a frown. "How many fingers am I holding up?"

It's just the one, and the rudeness of the gesture makes Prompto burst out laughing. He slings an arm around Ignis' waist and leans against him. "Come on, let's finish looting and head home. I'll let you play doctor when we get there."

"Promises, promises," Ignis mutters, but Prompto feels his fingers brush over his hair briefly, assuring himself that all was well, they were fine, nothing terrible had happened after all.


End file.
